


No Pretending

by Door



Series: Beacon Hills Pack [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Teacher Stiles, werewolf babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Door/pseuds/Door
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Families are expanding in the Beacon Hills Pack.  And is it really so much to ask that Stiles' 7th period world history class refer to him as "Professor X?"  I mean, really?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Alright, who can tell me about Lorenzo the Magnificent?"  Stiles turns away from his board to address his class.  "Anyone?  Come on, I know you people read your Hibbert last night, you were all scribbling like mad on your quizzes."  

More blank stares greet him.  Stiles picks up the sonic screwdriver on his desk and raps it loudly on the surface of the Christopher Hibbert book in question.  "It's the last period of the day on a Friday and I'm still demanding that you know things.  It sucks, I know, I was once in your shoes in this very classroom."  He gets some chuckles for that one, and considers it a win.  "The man's name was 'El Magnifico.'  Please tell me that rings a bell with _one_ of you.   _Yes_ , Jubilee," he points the screwdriver at the bored-looking girl with her arm raised.  "Talk to me."

The girl, whose actual name is Ashley, rolls her eyes.  "Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because you lot persist in refusing to call me Professor X, even though I've asked you to all semester.   _Third period does_ ," he hisses.  "Besides, Jubilee is awesome.  It is an honor."

"Could be worse," the kid Stiles calls "Gambit" but secretly thinks of as "Jackson Whittemore 2.0" mumbles from the back.

"Hush now, _chere_.  Jubes was telling us about Captain Magnificent."

Ashley groans, but does so.

He manages to get a credible discussion about the Pazzi Conspiracy out of them before the collective pen-tapping and leg-twitching alerts him to the quickly approaching end of the day.  He stands, dropping the screwdriver to the desk behind him.  "Alright, folks.  Good talk.  This weekend, read the next chapter in Hibbert—the PDF should be on the class server, send me an email if it's not—and think about checking out the Crash Course episode on The Renaissance on YouTube.  Not required, but it's like 10 minutes out of your life and in my experience is hugely helpful.  I'd show it in class, except that I'm supposed to 'teach you myself'" he makes his air quotes as huge and obnoxious as possible.  " _Apparently_."

He turns towards the board, and hears his students start to stow their belongings.  "Oh, one last thing," he spins back towards them.  Everyone groans.  "Shut up, this is important.  This weekend, I want you to block some time out of your schedule and just…”  he pauses for effect, then finishes: “have fun.  Go to the movies, share a milkshake at the diner, read a terrible book, _whatever_.  Just make sure it has absolutely nothing to do with school.  I'm serious.  There will be a quiz."  Everyone laughs, but he has given pop extra credit quizzes about random comic books or episodes of The Simpsons in the past.  Stiles likes to keep them on their toes.  "Now you're done.  Be as obnoxiously teenage as you want until the bell rings."

He hears a light tap on the door, and knows exactly what he'll find when he turns because every girl in the room (and a few of the guys, too) has spontaneously sighed.

Stiles grins.  "Or, if you're willing to put off the obnoxious thing a little longer, you could come coo at my kid."

Derek is standing in the doorway holding Claudia, who is visibly trembling with excitement.  "Daddy!" she shouts, and Derek winces at the noise, but puts her down so she can run over to Stiles.

Stiles crouches to meet her, otherwise she's prone to climbing him like a tree.  Which is adorable, he loves it, but it's...not something a 4-year-old should be able to easily accomplish.  "Heya, Claudie!  How was school?"

"It was _awesome_.  I made you a cat-a-pilla to live on your desk."  She brandishes the creature in her hand, which appears to be a chimera composed of a segmented cardboard tube, pipe cleaners, and construction paper.  It is predominantly yellow and purple, which are her current favourite colors.

"Whoa, dude, that is one great caterpillar.  What do you think, guys?"  Stiles consults the small group of students who've gathered around them and finds them nodding in approval.

"That's really good, Claud," Jenna says, and Claudia beams.

"Thanks, Shadowcat!"

Jenna rolls her eyes but does not correct her.  And why should she, Stiles wants to know.  He saddled her with Kitty Pryde, for god’s sake, she won the X-Men name lottery.  She also lives next door to them and is their favourite non-pack babysitter, so it’s in her best interests to humor her weirdo world history teacher.  “Hey, Mr. Hale,” she greets Derek.

“Jenna,” Derek responds.

The bell rings, and the students crowd out the door.   _“How do you know Mr. S’s husband?”_ Stiles hears one of the boys whisper to Jenna.  Derek rolls his eyes, which Stiles takes to mean he’s hearing a lot of other comments, too.  Primarily on the breadth and magnificence of his shoulders, if he has to guess.  Because wow, Derek’s shoulders look fantastic in that shirt.

Stiles assists his daughter in finding the perfect spot on his desk for the caterpillar, then hurries to tidy the room so they can leave.  He generally takes his time at the end of the week, making sure his classroom is exactly the way he’ll need it come Monday morning, but they’re in a hurry today.  They have an appointment with Isaac, and need to drop Claudia at the library first.

Claudia and Derek pitch in, with Claud checking for discarded trash in and around the desks, and Derek erasing the blackboard.  When he finishes the board, he slams the eraser back into its tray rather violently, and a plume of chalk dust poofs up.  Derek coughs.

“Having detention flashbacks?”

Derek turns from the board and pulls his shirt slightly away from his torso to examine the chalk damage.  “What makes you think I got detention?”

“Oh, please,” Stiles scoffs.  “With your grumpy face, penchant for leather, and general dislike of authority?  Let me, you’re making it worse.”  Stiles interrupts himself to walk over to Derek and deal with his dusty shirt.  “Total detention material.  Anyway, you were a little shit and you know it.”

“Daddy, that’s a house word,”  Claudia pipes up from behind him.  “But we’re not at home.”

They had tried to curb their swearing once there were children about, but after one too many failures resulted in all three pack kids learning all of the major swear words, they established the “house word” rule.  They could use the words, but only in their homes or the pack house.  Not that any of them really cared, but it cut down on the disapproving glares in the grocery store.  Establishing that the words weren’t bad—just different—removed the taboo and also most of the desire to even use them.  So it generally wasn’t an issue.  Unless your kid was a nit-picky stickler, like Stiles’ was.

“That is true.  Thanks for catching me, Claudia.”  Stiles scowls at Derek’s smirk (he’s much better at managing the swearing—a virtue of talking less, probably), but pastes on a smile to address Claudia.  “Room all clean?”

“Yup!”  She scuttles over to hand him the discarded pens she has clutched in her hands, and Stiles drops them in the mug on his desk that exists to house that very thing.  It’s decorated with a dramatic illustration of a wolf which Stiles has embellished with a piece of bright pink tape that has “SCOTT” written in black across it.  None of his students have any idea why, but he chuckles whenever someone borrows a pen from it.

* * *

 

They drive to the public library with Claudia chattering about her day all the way.  Stiles learns that in addition to the caterpillar-making, the class read _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ (which Claudia already knows all the words of by heart) and went bug-hunting in the school’s little garden.  Claudia and Alex are in the same class, which is helpful because they tend to keep each other in check, werewolf-wise.  Both kids are adept at bug-hunting because they do it so often in the woods, but they pretended not to know what caterpillars smell like and helped the other kids.

Claudia generally finds playing dumb beneath her (Stiles sometimes wonders whether Lydia isn’t actually Claudia’s biological mother, despite the fact that she swears she’s never donated eggs).  Alex is 100% Scott’s kid, totally willing to accept that what his parents tell him is the best way to go and sticking to it.  A beta all the way, that kid.  They balance each other out.

Stiles has his tablet out and is trying to do all of the end-of-day things he missed because they had to leave while Derek drives, both of them half-listening and occasionally asking questions (Claudia doesn’t generally need to be prompted to talk.  She is very much Stiles’ kid that way).  She eventually runs out of words and begins absently humming “Yellow Submarine.”

“What are you going to do when we get to the library?”  Derek asks her.

Claudia thinks for a moment.  “I’m gonna read a book about llamas.”

Stiles snorts in an effort to smother his laugh.  Derek sighs.  “Okay.  But how are you going to _act_ at the library?”

“Oh!”  Claudia’s face clears as she clues into what Derek’s asking.  “I’m gonna be good for Aunt Allison an’ sit quietly inna beanbag an’ read a book about llamas an’ not growl at Alex.”

“Why would you growl at Alex?”  Stiles asks, curious.

“Cause he took my juice at lunch.”

Stiles and Derek exchange glances.  That is the opposite of Alex’s usual behavior.  “And why did he take your juice?”  Derek presses.

There’s a tense silence, a clear sign that whatever it is, Claudia does not want to share.  She mumbles something, but it’s too quiet for Stiles to catch.

Derek’s jaw clenches.  “Now say it loud enough for Daddy to hear.”

“I got mad an’ squeezed his juice an’ it asploded.”

Stiles turns in his seat so he can see her, sitting behind him in her booster seat.  “Were there claws?   _Claudia_.”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Okay,” he takes a breath, fighting not to ask the question he most wants to, namely _Did anyone see?_  “Baby, what happened?”

“Sophie called Alex a baby cause he said he was scared to climb the big tree but he’s _not_ scared he was jus’ _pretending_.  I _hate_ pretending!”  Her eyes flash yellow and Stiles reaches out to lay a hand on her knee.

“It’s okay.  It’s okay, Claudie.  Focus on me, on my voice.  Okay?”

She nods, and takes a deep breath, and Stiles can feel her settling.  Next to him, Derek is still tense.  Stiles thinks Derek might be better equipped to deal with this, having once lived through it, but he hasn’t said anything, so Stiles forges ahead.

“I understand how frustrating it is that you have to pretend to be something you’re not.  It’s stupid, and I’m sorry.  I really, really am.  You are amazing, all of the parts of you, and I wish we could share all of that with the world.  Maybe someday we will be able to.  But for now, it has to be our secret.”  Claudia huffs at that, clearly unimpressed.  “Okay, think of it like this.  You know your treasure chest?”

“Yes,” Claudia says reluctantly.  Her treasure chest is a shoebox she keeps under her bed, or sometimes in her closet or hidden in the window seat in her bedroom.  It is full of her favourite things, and she is very particular about who gets to see its contents.

“Think of being a werewolf as something you keep in your treasure chest.  It’s a special thing, a secret you only share with the people who are the closest to your heart.”  She gives him a sceptical look.  “I didn’t always know about werewolves, you know!  When Uncle Scott told me about them, I knew how lucky I was to get to know that secret.  That he was trusting me to protect it.”

She still doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s not just a secret,” Derek pipes up, finally.  They’ve pulled into the library lot and parked, so he’s turned around in his seat to face her, too.

“It’s not?”

“Nope.  It’s safety.  Mine, Daddy’s, Alex’s, Jason’s, everybody’s.”

“The babies and Granma and Pop-pop, too?”

“Yup.  We have to keep them safe, all of us.  And the way we do it is by playing pretend.”

“But I _hate_ it,” she whines.

“Me too,” Derek says, sounding tired.  Stiles reaches across the console to take his hand.  “When I was your age, I hated school.  I wanted to stay home and run in the woods with my sister all day long.”

“With Aunt Cora?”

Derek freezes for a second, but before Stiles can react, he’s speaking again.  “No, with my other sister.  Your Aunt Laura.  She died, before you were born.”

Claudia understands death, to a certain extent.  Derek’s made an effort to talk more about his family with her, and she knows that they are dead, and that he misses them.  “She’s the one whose name I’ve got.”

“Yes.  But I’m glad I went to school, because I learned a lot of things that I wouldn’t have learned staying in the woods.  And I made friends, which is important, too.  Okay?”

Claudia heaves a sigh.  “Okay.”

“So no growling at Alex?”  Stiles asks her, just to be sure.  “No growling at _anybody?_  Growling is pretty rude, you know.  You don’t want to be a rude dude.”  Stiles climbs out of the car and opens her door just in time to be met with her groan.

“Don’t call me dude!”  (This is something she heard Lydia snap primly at Stiles once, and has been aping it ever since.  She’s got secret Martin genes, Stiles swears to god.)

He unbuckles her.  “Who said that?  I only see dudes around here.”

“Daaad!”

Allison is sitting behind the information desk, but smiles and stands when she sees them walk in.  Claudia jogs as sedately as she can manage over to her and wraps her arms around Allison’s rounded belly.  “Hi, Aunt Allison.  Hi, new baby,” she says.

“Hello, Claudie.  Were you good at school today?” she asks in a tone that indicates she’s already heard the story from Alex.

“No,” Claudia answers honestly.  “But I’m gonna be better next week.”

Allison beams.  “That’s great.  Alex is over in the beanbags.”

“Okay.  I gotta find a book first, though.”  She turns to walk away, then darts back to where Stiles and Derek are standing.  “You’re gonna come back, right?”

Stiles crouches to meet her eyes.  “You’re going to go to the pack house with Aunt Allison and your cousins, but we’ll see you there.”  It’s Friday, which means the weekly pack dinner.  “Sound good?”

“Okay.”

“We love you, Claudia Laura Stilinski Hale.”

She wrinkles her nose.  “That’s too many names.”

“Too bad, you’ve got ‘em all.”  Stiles grabs her to his chest and buries kisses in her neck.  She giggles wildly, and pushes him away.  With a brief stop to hug Derek’s knees, and a quick “Bye, Papa,” she’s off.

“She’s going to want books about llamas,” Derek says to Allison.

“Got it,” Allison says, very used to Claudia’s thirst to know all about seemingly random things (that’s all Stiles, right there. Or maybe more Martin genes, crap).  “Aren’t you going to be late to meet Isaac?”

“Dammit, we are,” Stiles swings around until he can see the wall clock.  “Thanks Al, we’ll see you later.”

“No problem.  Don’t forget to pick up something alcoholic.  Danny’s had a rough week.”

“Got it.”

“Oh!”  Both Derek and Stiles glance back at Allison.  She smiles at them.  “I hope this is the one.”

“Jinxing!  No jinxing!”  Stiles hisses as Derek tugs him out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles’ teaching style is based loosely on my own high school history teacher. He never called us by X-names (although he might have, had it occurred to him), but he did give us extra credit pop quizzes about random episodes of The Simpsons. Getting to tell my parents that I had to watch The Simpsons for school was a pretty awesome thing.
> 
> When my BFF found out I was writing stories about werewolf babies, she demanded one of them be named for her. The trouble is, her name is Laura, and Claudia’s middle name was always Laura, right from the beginning (all of the young’ns have middle names. I am a naming tyrant). We compromised when I promised to mention in the story notes that Claudia is named both for Laura Hale and my badass book editor BFF. And thus my debt is paid.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes them twice as long as usual to get from the library to Isaac’s building because of construction on, like, three separate streets.  As a result, Stiles is positively trembling with stress as they navigate the back roads.

“Stop thinking,” Derek says to him.

“ _You’re_ thinking,” Stiles tosses back.  “I can hear you from here.”

“Am not,” is Derek’s extremely mature response.  Stiles gives him his very best _I am not impressed_ face, and Derek rolls his eyes.  “I was fine all day today.  This is your fault.”

Stiles is quiet for a moment.  He can’t exactly dispute that.  “What if this is actually a terrible idea?” he asks quietly.

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“No...I don’t know.  I mean, we’re good at this, right?  We are good parents.  We are raising a healthy, happy wolf-child.  And—claws at preschool, that’s not a total fuck-up, right? _Have we totally fucked up?”_

“Jesus, Stiles.  No.  Is this going to be a panic thing?  Should I pull over?”

Stiles shuts his eyes and focuses on breathing.  “No, this is just normal-level everything is awful.  I’ll let you know if we’re moving to DEFCON 4 everything is awful.”

Derek makes the sigh/chuckle sound that is particular to him, as if he cannot decide whether to be exasperated or amused.  He makes it a lot, being married to Stiles.  “Nothing is awful.  Claudia is a totally normal 4-year-old werewolf.  A little quick-tempered, maybe, but she comes by that honestly.  My mom used to tell us horror stories about Laura’s first years in school.”

“So we’re not making a huge mistake?”

“For the hundredth time, no.  Unless...do you think I’m going to screw it up?”

Stiles spins towards him, honestly shocked.  “What?  Why would you ask that?”

Derek shrugs, uncomfortable.  “Well, I’ll be home with them most of the time…”

“Derek, I have 100% confidence in your parenting skills.  1000%.  Name the percentage level necessary to convice you, and I will match it.”

His face relaxes as he lets the edge of his mouth curl up.  "100% is sufficient."

"Good.  Because, you know.  Mathematical impossibilities and all."  Stiles sighs and watches the passing street lights outside his window.  "I really want this to work out, Derek.  It's really important to me."

"Hey," Derek says, and waits until Stiles has turned to meet his eyes.  "This is not me humoring you.  It's important to me, too."

"Okay.  Will you yell at me if I freak out a little more until we get there?"

"Just do it _quietly."_

* * *

 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Stiles says as they walk in the door to Isaac's department.  He's emerged from his office to meet them, but it's towards the end of the day, so there aren't too many other people about.  "We had a minor crisis."

Isaac rolls his eyes, which—okay.  Maybe Stiles uses that excuse a lot, but when you become a parent, you quickly learn just how many potential crises there are.

"Claudia wolfed out a little bit at school," Derek says, quietly enough that no one beyond their little circle will hear.

Isaac stops, eyes widened.  "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Derek says.  "We don't think anyone saw."

"Maybe we _should_ have tried to homeschool them," Isaac says as he ushers them into his small office.  They'd talked about it at length, but in the end, it was a big burden to saddle one person with, and they wanted to integrate more with their community, not less.  Derek and his siblings had all managed public school.  Their pack kids would do it, too.

"You volunteering?" Stiles asks.

"That would be a no," Isaac replies, settling in behind his desk.  Stiles and Derek take the two seats opposite him.  Stiles immediately scoots his chair towards Derek in a way that would be embarrassing with most people, but not with Isaac.  Isaac wears the plastic ring Cora bought him from a toy machine in San Francisco on a chain around his neck.  He gets it.

Stiles feels a hand settle on his knee and realizes he's been jiggling it.  He stills and reaches to take the hand in his.  Derek turns it until their fingers are linked.

"So," Derek begins.  None of them are in the mood for small talk.

Isaac opens a file sitting on his desk, but doesn't glance at it.  He knows the information by heart.  "His name is Milo.  He's seven.  His mother died of a drug overdose last year.  Nobody seems to know who his father is."

"Where has he been living?" Stiles asks.

"He started with one family, then was bounced to another, and for the last two months has been in a group home.  He's been doing better there, but...I'm not gonna lie, guys, this is not an easy kid."

"What about us makes you think we're interested in easy?" Derek asks.

Isaac grins, like Derek's response was exactly what he was expecting to hear.  "Nothing."

Stiles realizes he's doing the leg jiggle again when Derek's hand tightens on his.  "When can we meet him?"

"How about this weekend?"

Derek looks at Stiles, who shrugs.  They have no plans aside from the usual Sunday dinner with his dad and Melissa.  "That should work," Stiles says.  "Should we have Claudie with us?"

"Not for the first meeting," Isaac tells them.  "Does she know you've been planning this?"

"Vaguely," Derek says.  "We've asked her if she would be interested in having a brother or sister, and she's all for it."

"I think she's thinking a baby, though, because of Allison," Stiles puts in.  "Plus, she knows that Danny and Ethan are getting a kid, and thats a baby, too.  We told her it might not be, but I'm not sure it's sunk in."

"Well, talk with her tonight.  How's Sunday afternoon for a meeting?"

"Good.  Great," Stiles says.

Isaac closes the file he never actually consulted, then smiles fully at them.  "Guys.  It'll be fine.  I wouldn't be pushing this forward if I didn't think he was a good fit for you, and vice versa."

"And what about the rest of the pack?" Stiles has to ask.  It's important, and they can't ignore it.  "Is he a good fit for everyone?"

"Honestly, I doubt there's much that can faze this kid," Isaac says in a way that indicates he wishes anything else were the case.  "But I've got a good feeling about this."

"Okay," Derek says after a pause.  "Sunday it is."  He stands, and Stiles goes with him.

"Are you gonna make it to dinner?"

Isaac checks his watch, then the stack of files in front of him.  "That depends.  Whose turn is it to pick a movie?"

"Mine," Stiles answers with relish.  "We're watching _The Shadow."_

Isaac looks blank.  "Which is...?"

"Comic book movie from the 90s," Derek supplies.  "Alec Baldwin's in it.  Apparently there are tubes."

"Pneumatic tubes!" Stiles crows.  "Positively the best cinematic use of pneumatic tubes."

"That sounds, uh," Isaac's gaze goes wildly back to the stack of files on his desk, as if willing them to multiply into a plausible excuse.

"No skipping, Lahey," Stiles tells him.  "You skipped last week.  That goes double for your lady love."

"I'm not even sure she's back yet."

"She is," Derek says, and Isaac shoots him an accusatory glare, like he's _surprised_ he sided with Stiles.  Derek shrugs.  "He cooks for me."

"I'm also probably better in bed—"

 _"Out,"_ Isaac says, finger pointing at the door. "Or else I will never attend another pack dinner."

Stiles chuckles, but goes.  It's an empty threat.  Between Stiles, Ethan, and Melissa, the pack food is too good for anyone to stay away for long.

* * *

 

Stiles and Derek bring vodka, because that's Danny's booze of choice when he wants to get drunk fast in an unhappy way.  When they walk in, Danny is sitting at the bar in the kitchen looking dazed, and everyone is gathered close.

"What happened?" Stiles asks, instantly alarmed.  He knows the moods of Danny well, and "having a rough week" does not equal "looks like someone punched him in the teeth."

Ethan turns to greet them, grin wide.  "It's twins!  Shannon just called us from the doctor's office.  We're having twins!"

Shannon is their surrogate, a witch in a nearby town who has no problem with carrying werewolf babies.

"Twins!" Stiles cries, turning to grin at Derek, who's grinning back.  "Twins!" he says again, and dives into the group surrounding Danny to hug whoever he can get his arms around.

An indeterminate amount of hugs, congratulations, and excited exclamations later (during which someone thought to inform them that the kids were outside under Cora's supervision), Danny's looking less like he's been punched, but not by a lot,  "Oh, no!"  Stiles realizes, "we brought sad booze, not happy booze!"

"Don't care," Danny says, still sounding dazed.  "Give it to me."

* * *

 

It's Ethan's turn to cook, which he completely forgets about for obvious reasons of impending twin-dom, so they scuttle the normal plans and order a flotilla of pizzas instead.   _The Shadow_ also gets pushed aside when the gathering devolves into a discussion of how they'll handle the unexpected two-for-one baby deal, but Stiles makes sure everyone knows they'll be watching it next week.  ("Shut up about the tubes, I swear to god, Stiles," Allison mutters.)

After the kids are in bed, the vodka has been consumed (primarily by Cora, who, despite being a born werewolf, somehow learned in her travels to _like the taste of vodka_ ), they're all sprawled out in the den, full of pizza.

Melissa clears her throat delicately.  "Speaking of kids..." she looks significantly at Stiles, who is sitting half-curled in Derek's lap.  (What?  There's only so much room on the sectional sofa, and it's not like Stiles actually needs an excuse to cuddle up on his husband in the privacy of their wolf pack's den.)

"Oh, yeah," Stiles says.  "You want to...?" he looks at Derek.

"We're meeting him on Sunday.  Actually, is anyone free to hang out with Claudia that afternoon?  Or we can ask Jenna."

"Shadowcat," Stiles corrects quickly.

"Jenna," Derek reiterates.

"I'm working, but John's free," Melissa says.

The Sheriff chuckles.  "Thanks," he says wryly.  "I'll bring her to our house, she can help me rake leaves."

"Good luck with that," Stiles says.  "Dad, you should have told us you were doing yard work this weekend."

"I'm not so old I can't rake my own damn yard, son.  You're free to help with the gutters, however."

"Deal."  Stiles will take any concessions he can get.  His dad isn't _old_ , but he's lived a more physically taxing life than most, and yard work's hell on the knees.  And apparently no matter how old he gets, or how many other people he has in his life to fret over, he's not happy unless he's worrying about his dad.  It's a habit he hopes he never breaks.

Derek likes to keep things like this close to his chest, which Isaac totally gets, bless him.  "We'll have more news next week, okay?"

Scott snores loudly all of a sudden, startling Allison, who'd fallen asleep against his shoulder, into consciousness.

"Wha...?" She looks around blearily, then smacks her husband to wake him up.  "What'd we miss?"

“It’s not even 10 pm, guys.  That’s just sad,” Ethan says.

Scott shakes his head as if to clear it, then squints across the sofa at Ethan.  “Soon, you will know this pain,” he whispers.   _“Soon.”_

Ethan quirks a brow.  “The pain of being...pregnant?”

“Oh, son,” the Sheriff says.  “Just you wait.”

Derek chuckles, a deep, half-mad sound that Stiles can vaguely remember being frightened of, once upon a time.  He hops up off of Derek’s lap and reaches a hand down to pull him up.

“Babies, man,” Stiles says to Ethan.   _“Babies.”_

Derek smacks Ethan hard on the shoulder as he passes.  He stops to give the Sheriff a hand up when he requests it, then they both leave the room, chuckling evilly.

Ethan has the good sense to look terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you take nothing else away from this chapter, please let it be the use of "flotilla" to describe a large order of pizzas. Let that be my legacy to the English language.


End file.
